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History often resembles myth, because they are both ultimately of the same stuff.
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I don't feel any guilt complex about The Lord of the Rings.
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Faerie is a perilous land, and in it are pitfalls for the unwary, and dungeons for the overbold.
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We set out to save the Shire, Sam and it has been saved - but not for me.
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Aure entuluva! Day shall come again!
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After all, I believe that legends and myths are largely made of 'truth', and indeed present aspects of it that can only be received in this mode; and long ago certain truths and modes of this kind were discovered and must always reappear.
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You renounce your friendship even in the hour of our need ' he said. 'Yet you were glad indeed to receive our aid when you came at last to these shores fainthearted loiterers and well-nigh emptyhanded. In huts on the beaches would you be dwelling still had not the Noldor carved out your haven and toiled upon your walls.
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I've always been impressed that we are here, surviving, because of the indomitable courage of quite small people against impossible odds.
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Is it nice, my preciousss? Is it juicy? Is it scrumptiously crunchable?
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There was some murmuring, but also some grins on the faces of the men looking on: the sight of their Captain sitting on the ground and eye to eye with a young hobbit, legs well apart, bristling with wrath, was one beyond their experience.
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Adventures are not all pony-rides in May-sunshine.
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This thing all things devours: Birds, beasts, trees, flowers; Gnaws iron, bites steel; Grinds hard stones to meal; Slays king, ruins town, And beats high mountain down.
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We all long for Eden, and we are constantly glimpsing it: our whole nature at its best and least corrupted, its gentlest and most human, is still soaked with the sense of exile.
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Farewell! O Gandalf! May you ever appear where you are most needed and least expected!
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Among the tales of sorrow and of ruin that came down to us from the darkness of those days there are yet some in which amid weeping there is joy and under the shadow of death light that endures. And of these histories most fair still in the ears of the Elves is the tale of Beren and Lúthien.
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I wish I was at home in my nice hole by the fire, with the kettle just beginning to sing!
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I felt a curious thrill, as if something had stirred in me, half wakened from sleep. There was something very remote and strange and beautiful behind those words, if I could grasp it, far beyond ancient English.
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And so it was settled. Sam Gamgee married Rose Cotton in the spring of 1420 (which was also famous for its weddings), and they came and lived at Bag End. And if Sam thought himself lucky, Frodo knew that he was more lucky himself; for there was not a hobbit in the Shire that was looked after with such care. When the labours or repair had all been planned and set going he took to a quiet life, writing a good deal and going through all his notes. He resigned the office of Deputy Mayor at the Free Fair that Midsummer, and dear old Will Whitfoot had another seven years of presiding at Banquets.
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You are a set of deceitful scoundrels! But bless you! I give in. I will take Gildor's advice. If the danger were not so dark, I should dance for joy. Even so, I cannot help feeling happy; happier than I have felt for a long time.
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I'm a Roman Catholic! A devout Roman Catholic.
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I will take the Ring", he said, "though I do not know the way.
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Truly songs and tales fall utterly short of the reality, O Smaug the Chiefest and greatest of Calamities.
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If this nice friendliness would spread about in Mordor, half our trouble would be ove.
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My political opinions lean more and more to Anarchy (philosophically understood, meaning abolition of control not whiskered men with bombs).